


Crash Queens and Motor Babies

by just_another_fandomite



Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Album), My Chemical Romance
Genre: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys, Gen, My Chemical Romance References, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-07
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2019-01-30 16:24:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12657162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/just_another_fandomite/pseuds/just_another_fandomite
Summary: The life-changing year of 2019 has come and gone, and Korse and BL/ind are still going strong. However, thanks to the influence of the Fabulous Four, the Killjoy ranks have grown in size and strength in the last few years. Among this unofficial army, there is a new team of four on the rise. This three-year-old, all-female team of four includes the killjoys known as Demolition Ghost, Danger Star, Toxic Grenade, and Bulletproof Night. Known as the Crash Queens, they are becoming almost as famous as the Fabulous Four. As of now, the two infamous teams have only heard of the other in stories, but have never actually met……. until one fateful mission where that all changes.After a brief adjustment period, the two teams decide it to be best to work together on future missions. The eight killjoys quickly become friends, and become known among the killjoys as an unstoppable force. But in this dystopian world they now live in, not everything is sunshine and rainbows. In the middle of all their adventures and antics, secrets are revealed and trust is tested. Will the great eight fall apart? Or will the team become even stronger?





	1. Home Sweet Home

“TIME TO RISE AND SHINE YOU LAZY ASSES”

I groaned but gave a slight smile against my pillow. Danger Star was always the first one awake in this group, and had taken it upon herself to be the alarm clock for the rest of us if we slept in too late.

I had been half awake for the past half hour, but had refused to get up and leave the comfy sanctuary of my bed. Yeah, “bed,” you heard me right. My group was lucky enough to find a mostly-secluded, mostly functioning house to crash in. I feel only partly bad about this because obviously most killjoys aren’t as lucky. But hey, I’m still not complaining. We do allow the occasional visiting killjoy to crash here for a few days if they need to, so it’s not like we try to keep it all to ourselves. We don’t see the point in being that selfish, given everyone’s current situation.

As I was contemplating the pros and cons of getting out of bed, I heard a surprised yell followed by the thudding sound of someone hitting the floor. My first reaction was that a Drac had decided to explore this far out in the zones and pay us a visit, so I jumped up and grabbed my purple ray gun and peeked slowly out the door to see what the fuck was going on. I immediately relaxed and shook my head, trying not to laugh, when I saw the sounds were of Danger Star falling to the floor after taking a pillow to the face, courtesy of Toxic Grenade.

I just realized I haven't actually introduced all of us yet. I'm Demolition Ghost (Ghost for short), and I'm the leader of this rowdy bunch of killjoys. Also a part-time, post-apocalyptic artist. It's how I make part of the income for our group in this day and age, because since killjoys are all about bright, loud colors and designs, there's a high demand for both. I've got a purple ray gun, with ripped white jeans, black-and-white skeleton shirt, black converse boots with blue laces, fingerless black gloves, and my trademarks are my long, wavy purple-and-blue hair and my black denim jacket with a white wrecking ball in the back, hand-painted by yours truly.

You've already kind of met Danger Star. She's the energetic one of the group, and while we're all basically adrenaline junkies (it's almost a requirement in order to be a killjoy), she takes the cake. And while she may be a wild card, she's loyal as hell, AND she's got almost sniper-level shooting skills. She's the only killjoy I know with a laser rifle in addition to the usual ray gun. FYI, she's also a giant flirt (don't worry, it's mostly in a joking fashion just to mess with people). And given her name, she took from the colors of the ol' star spangled banner: red, white, and blue. She's got a red ray gun with white stars on it, blue jeans, silver and black combat boots, a black and red striped shirt, and red leather jacket. She's known for her red fingerless gloves with a white star on each, and her long, curly silvery-white hair. Star's reason for wearing so much red is so the bad guys can't see her bleed.

Toxic Grenade is the third member of this team, Toxic for short. You know, the one who threw the pillow fastball. In every group, you have to have the short-tempered person. Well this is her. She's the kind of person who is the definition of the "take-no-shit" attitude. Before this life, she had graduated college with an engineering degree, so she's our resident mechanic and engineer. Toxic is actually the one who helped make Star's laser rifle. So while she may have a quick temper, she's highly skilled. She's got a black ray gun with a green stripe down the barrel, black-with-green-splatter combat boots, her favorite black ACDC shirt, and yellow leather jacket. Her trademarks are her black ripped up skinny jeans with green grenades painted on the back pockets, and her shoulder-length green hair with an undercut.

Another person you need on every team is the quiet one. That's Bulletproof Night. Her fighting style mostly consists of silent assassin-ry, and it helps that she's got one of those long black leather jackets with a death-eater-like hood. She mainly keeps to herself, and she chose the room in the attic, because it's got the easiest access to the roof, which is the best vantage point for seeing any approaching visitors, hostile or not. She's a pretty simple yet strong person, and she prefers "working in the shadows," as Night's put it. Because of this, she's got the most understated outfit, but believe me, it still makes an impact when she walks in a room. She has a cobalt blue ray gun with multiple thin silver stripes going down the barrel, she's also got black jeans and knee-high boots,black fingerless gloves, a cobalt blue shirt, and she has a silver belt. Her weapons also consist of a thigh holster for her throwing knives. We also can't forget her long dark blue hair with silver stripes.

Now, on to our house. It’s your basic two-story, Southern California home, but we do have an attic room and a basement. I know right? A SoCal home with a basement? It’s like seeing a unicorn. We live in this abandoned neighborhood (well, pretty much every neighborhood is technically abandoned now I guess), but we live in one of the outermost zones, the farthest away from Battery City. So not many killjoys come out this far, but then again, that means the Dracs usually don’t either, so we’re relatively safe here.

We’ve got two working bathrooms, with showers in each; a working kitchen and fridge, very magical; and an actual working washing machine. We’re practically living in unheard-of luxury but hey, you’d be grossed out too if you had to run around in the same dirty clothes every day in the desert. There is a pool out back (SoCal, remember?), but trust me, you wouldn’t want to swim in that. The initial radiation dump back in 2019 did not leave out the pool. Luckily, between us carefully emptying it and the desert heat evaporation, most of the water is gone anyway (trying to deter anyone from any “great” ideas). There’s three bedrooms upstairs, one in the attic, and one in the basement. The basement, the fifth and extra room, is the one we rent out whenever a stray killjoy comes along looking for a safe place to crash. No TV, sadly, but we have our communications radio for both music and for receiving updates and missions from Dr. Death Defying. But it's still a house, so it's got a stash of board games. The lights in the house still kinda work, due to Toxic making a couple solar panels outside.

So that’s our family and our home. We’ve been a rock-solid team for about three years now, so yeah, we refer to ourselves as a family.


	2. Fuckin' Ready

Since I had already gotten out of bed at this point, there was no reason in trying to go back to sleep anymore. I didn’t feel like getting dressed just yet however, so I made my way downstairs in search of breakfast. As I passed the living room, I saw that everyone else was also up, most likely because of Star, and it seemed everyone else also decided to stay in their pj’s for a little while longer. So I continued my trek to the kitchen in my blue shorts and white tank top, and found some canned fruit in the fridge and cereal in the cupboard. When we first found this house, we were ecstatic to find that the previous owners seemed to have prepared for a zombie apocalypse (not that that’s too far off from what actually happened), and the basement was almost entirely filled with supplies, mostly canned food. The one time I was grateful for Doomsday People. Despite the amount, we knew it couldn’t last forever, so we mostly use it for breakfast or special occasions. Believe me, no one wants to eat Power Pup (our main staple of food out here in the zones), and much less for breakfast.

Everyone else got their food while I was making mine and we all ate in mutual silence around the dining table, until Star spoke up with the daily question:

“So, what’s on the agenda today, o' fearless leader?” she asked with a dramatic flair.

“I’ve got nothing planned, per se, so I guess we just wait and see if Dr. Death radios in with a mission like we usually do. If nothing turns up, we could just make a run to the Run-n-Go store to see if anything interesting showed up,” I replied.

Toxic piped up, “I personally would like to see if they happened to finally get ahold of that engine part I’ve been asking for.”

“Sounds like a plan. Night? You need anything?” I turned my attention to the quieter one at the table.

“Nah, I’m good,” she replied. Night is a killjoy of few words, but that just means whatever she says is always brief and to the point.

“Alright, after I get dressed I’ll contact the Doctor and see if he needs anything. Even if he does, we can still probably add in the store trip along the way.”

As everyone shared their agreement, I cleared my dishes and headed back up to my room to get ready for the day. I changed out of my pajamas and put on my ripped white jeans and black skeleton shirt, and laced up my black knee-high converse boots. Grabbing my jacket, ray gun, and mask, I slid down the staircase banister, hopped down, and walked over to the coffee table in the living room, which is where our communications radio sits. When we first got it, I took the liberty of painting it in loud colors, and with paint splatters and comic book action bubbles (like “kapow” and stuff). Also, Dr. Death likes to change the frequency he uses daily, so BL/ind has a harder time tracking him, but every killjoy team leader has a copy of the pattern he utilizes.

I dialed in to today’s frequency, and waited as the static started quieting down, telling me that I was on the right station. Every killjoy team has one of these communications radios, and it works as both music player and a sort of walkie-talkie. Unfortunately, not much music plays anymore, but there’s a couple stations run by killjoys who play whatever music CDs and tapes they could get there hands on, so it’s a wide variety of tunes, from rap to heavy metal to country, but that’s it. And then, of course, there’s Dr. Death. He has two stations, one that remains constant where he broadcasts any news he’s heard, and the second station. This is the one that changes daily, because this is the frequency where he assigns missions to killjoys. This was the station I was now listening to.

For the first few minutes all I could hear was quiet static. No voices, no orders, nada. I decided to not wait any longer and I pressed the button on the side of the radio to talk.

“Dr. D? Come in, Dr. D, this is Demolition Ghost of the Crash Queens. Come in, Dr. D.”

I released the button and waited. It wasn’t guaranteed that he was able to answer immediately, he was a busy man. After waiting five minutes with no answer, I pressed the button again and repeated my request. This time it only took 30 seconds for a response.

“This is Dr. Death Defying, I read you Demolition Ghost.”

I pressed the button, “Hey D-cubed, just wondering if any ghosting needed to be done today. The team and I are revved and ready to go.”

“I do have a mission for you fortuitous four, but it’s not big, sorry, it’s a slow day.”

“No worries, what’s the job?”

“There’s a storage facility near the outskirts of Battery City. Because of low supplies, we need some more gasoline and oil to keep some teams motoring. The latest we need them is by tomorrow morning.”

“The girls and I were planning on heading in that direction anyway today, so yeah, we can get that done. Where do you want it delivered?”

“Drop it off at the Run-n-Go, then contact me, and I’ll send someone out to pick it up, as well as someone to bring your pay. Ghost whoever you need to keep breathing. Keep your boots tight, your gun close, and die with your mask on if you have to. Dr. Death Defying, out,” the boss signed off with his signature phrase.

I switched the station back to one of the music playing frequencies, then called to the rest of the team.

“GUESS WHO’S GOT A JOB AND SOME GHOSTING TO DO,” I shouted, making sure every corner of the house heard me.

Star and Toxic must’ve gone back upstairs at some point, because Star came sliding down the banister with a look of glee, and Toxic ran down the stairs after her, and both, fully dressed, practically skidded to a stop in front of me. Night came around the corner from the kitchen, also dressed, and leaned against the wall nonchalantly while sliding her fingerless gloves on.

“So what’s today’s mission?” she asked.

“We’ve been asked to raid a storage facility for some gas and motor oil. Not high-end, but still important. AND, the drop off point for whatever we score is at the Run-n-Go, so we can get both done today. What do you say?” I had shrugged on my jacket and holstered my gun while relaying all this.

Night slipped on her silver mask and pulled up her black bandana. "Sounds good to me," she smiled.

"I'm in," stated Toxic, slipping on her neon green mask with a black X over each eye, slipping her gun into its thigh holster.

"Fuckin' ready!" Star piped in, tying her blue bandana around her face, her chrome aviators already in place.

I grinned, pulling on my own mask, decorated like a Dia de Muertos skull, and strapping on the black lower face mask that was molded like a jawbone.

“Then let’s go.”


	3. Motoring

I revved the car engine and we shot out of the garage and zoomed down the dust and dirt highway towards Battery City. Because I’m the leader, I’m technically designated driver, even though it was never officially voted on. But everyone agrees I’m the best driver. Every so often, the killjoys will arrange impromptu street races, and I’m usually guaranteed to bring home a sizable stack of carbons (our form of currency out here in the desert). Very, very rarely does anyone ever bet pink slips, because cars themselves are hard enough to get ahold of out here anyway. My/our car is a ‘77 trans am Firebird that we found in an abandoned parking lot somewhere, and Toxic fixed it up to almost brand new condition, and I painted it. Our team’s symbol is a skull and crossbones wearing a spiky crown, so I painted that in black on the hood, and the rest of the car is just a mishmash of loud colors. ANYHOO, back to the mission.

With me driving, Danger Star in the passenger seat, and Toxic and Night in the back, we sped down the dirt highway through the Zones, getting closer and closer to the the city. Before we left we had gone over our maps that we had managed to steal on one of our first missions, and made a game plan. The city may be surrounded by a nearly impenetrable wall, but there were breaches, holes, in said wall. We would drive to the hole that we knew opened up near a supply warehouse, park the car in the slums, then head in. Two of us would go into the actual warehouse while the other two would keep watch outside. Toxic made us makeshift walkie-talkies at some point a while back, so that’s how we would stay in touch. We always made contingency plans banking on worst case scenarios just in case, but we’d gotten good enough as a team that it was doubtful we’d ever need them.

Because of the distance, it took us about an hour to get to the slums right outside the walls of Battery City. The population that made up the slums were mostly people who didn’t want to live in the city, but were too afraid to become full-on killjoys. I don’t blame them, I mean, it’s a tough life. The other part of the population that lives there are the droids. They range from the porno droids to just the simple housekeeping ones, but the one thing they all have in common is that they’re all dejected models. Old, outdated, or whatever, it’s usually because they were the original droid models that were made to have human emotions and look almost exactly like humans. But that meant they had human thoughts and ideas too. So they were marked as “too dangerous” or “mistakes” and sent away from the city, and eventually ended up here. Luckily, most of them are friends with the killjoys because of this. My team ended up meeting and befriending a droid named Spark awhile back, and she lets us borrow her apartment space whenever we go on missions and might need more than a day.

I drive the car slowly and carefully between the dilapidated buildings until I see Spark’s apartment, and I pull into the small, hidden alleyway right next the the complex. It’s become routine now that we all then pile out and cover the car with tarp and garbage before leaving it. We walk up the stairs and knock on the door, and a few seconds later we are greeted to the smiling face of Spark, her short electric blue hair shimmering in the sun.

“Hey guys, what brings you out here?” she asks as we all exchange hugs.

“Dr. D sent us on a supply run, and I was wondering if you were fine with us leaving the car here until we get back? It shouldn’t take too long,” I smile back at her.

“Yeah, that’s totally fine! Come on in, I haven’t seen you all in a while,” she replied as her silvery eyes lit up. Spark always seemed like the kind of person who could never stop smiling.

Our plan was to go during the night, so when the sky finally darkened, we said our temporary goodbyes, Spark wished us luck, and we headed towards the city and the hole in the wall. We clipped our walkie-talkies to our belts, and switched our guns off of safety. The breach was about a quarter mile away from the slums, and we walked quickly and quietly to attract as little attention as possible. The hole itself was only just big enough for someone to crouch and crawl through, so that was going to present a slight problem when we got our hands on the gasoline and motor oil drums, but we’d cross that bridge when we got to it. Before we went through, I turned to the team.

“Alright, we all know the plan, and we know what to do in case things go sideways, and we know the meet up point if we get separated,” everyone nodded to my words. “Also, remember, if any of us get caught or detained, don’t be a hero. Be smart, and we’re not leaving anyone behind, capisce? I know Dr. D says to never let them take you alive, and to die with your mask on if you have to, but I’d prefer to delay that outcome for as long as possible,” I looked at each one of them.

“No worries boss-lady, I have no plans to die tonight,” Star was the first to speak up, a mischievous grin on her face. The other two also had almost identical expressions on their faces.

I grinned back, “Alright. Let’s go.”

The wall is about 5 feet thick, so it takes a while to crawl all the way through. I went in first, and when I saw no guards on the other side, I signaled for the team to follow me. Once we all stood back up inside the confines of Battery City, we headed in the direction of the warehouse. We had all memorized the maps and the city layout, and we would update the maps if needed, so we knew the particular warehouse we were looking for was only three buildings down from where the hole was, so luckily it wasn’t a long walk. And as an added bonus, we were heading in the opposite direction of the main gate, which meant less guards.

We skirted the edges of the buildings until we came up to the five story, concrete warehouse. While we could’ve easily picked the lock on the door, we didn’t want to risk finding Scarecrows right on the other side. So we looked for the manhole cover on the ground that the maps said would lead to right under the building. Carefully setting aside the heavy metal disc, we slipped down into the underground tunnel, and Night slid the cover back, leaving us all in complete darkness. Thank god for flashlights. We walked along the edges of the tunnel, avoiding the gross water running down the middle. We weren't walking for long when we find the ladder leading up to a ledge and a door, which then should open up to a broom closet of sorts inside the warehouse. Night and I are the ones who are actually going in, while Star and Toxic stay down here to help with the getaway. When the coast is clear, I pick the lock on the door and Night and I slip through into the warehouse.

We’re greeted with hundreds of crates and storage containers. And only one Scarecrow, who’s facing away from us. To avoid making sound, Night silently knocks him out and we toss his unconscious body down into the sewer after a quiet warning to the other two girls. Sadly, the maps and blueprints don’t provide the exact location of where the gasoline is kept, so this part of the plan is a bit trial-and-error. We’ll just have to be stealthy and look around quickly to find the metal drums of motor oil and gas.

Because it’s just a storage warehouse, there aren’t many guards to worry about. Due to this fact, we got concerned when we started hearing multiple voices and the smacks and loud thuds of a fist fight around the corner. Staying in the shadows, we peered over the stack of crates in front of us, trying to see what the sudden commotion was.


	4. Let's Dance

Due to it being dark outside, it was also mostly dark inside, and the only light source came from a few dim light bulbs interspersed on the ceiling, so all we could really see were mostly just the silhouettes of several people fighting about 10 feet away from us. I could make out about three people fighting against what seemed to be four Scarecrow guards, so my first thought was that those strangers were fellow killjoys. The harder I looked, the more signs showed that I was right. I spotted a splash of bright red hair on one of them, what looked to be a Halloween rubber mask on another one, and the third was wearing a jacket with an American flag on the back. I also noticed something else: while they seemed to be holding their own pretty good, they were still outnumbered and they were struggling. They were only about wrong move away from someone getting hurt.

With out taking my eyes off of them, I whispered to Night, “I know we have a set mission, but it would be a shame if we had to drag back gasoline tanks AND three bodies all the way out of here. I’m too lazy for that today.”

Night laughed softly. “A real shame indeed. Also, I just spotted the gas tanks over there by the south wall. We can grab them right after. So let’s dance.”

We holstered our guns and quickly walked around to the crates right next to the fight. We climbed to the top, which put us up at about ten feet, then crouched waiting for the right moment to jump in. Quite literally, as well. About five seconds later, two of the guards had moved over enough to be practically right under us.

“How nice of them to provide a landing pad for us,” I said mischievously.

Night and I then jumped down and landed smack on top of the two oblivious guards, knocking them out completely. The one killjoy who had been fighting these two, the one with the Halloween mask, froze in surprise. At least I assumed it was surprise, I mean, I couldn’t exactly see his face.

“Never fear, fellow citizen, the real badasses are here,” I said dramatically before Night and I sprinted toward the other two fighting pairs.

Night nailed one scarecrow with an epic flying sidekick to the guys face, then smashed her fist right where his jaw joint was, knocking him out like a light. While still running at the other guard, I stretched out my arm and slammed it into the guys neck, sending him down as well, and finished him off with my combat boot to his cranium. Night and I had gotten our hands on some old karate videos and movies, and we consider ourselves to be self-taught ninjas.

After taking in our good work, we turned to the two other killjoys, who, like the first guy, looked to be in stunned silence. The one with the american flag jacket seemed to still be trying to wrap his head around what just happened.

While Night stood silently next to me, looking like post-apocalyptic Batman with the hooded black leather trenchcoat, I decided it was best to make a quick, but vague, introduction and then carry on with our original mission.

“Hey I’m Demolition Ghost, this is Bulletproof Night, you’re welcome for saving your sorry asses, even though no thanks is needed, and now we must be going on our way. I hope you all can find the exit safely without our help,” with that, I turned on my heel, Night following suite, and we walked over to where we had spotted the gasoline tanks right before joining the fight.

The tanks were a few twists and turns and a fair distance away from the other killjoys, so if we worked quickly we could get out before the other group came looking for us. We had lost enough valuable time fighting, we didn’t have enough to spare for long conversations. There were about six tanks of gas, and only two drums of motor oil, which wouldn’t last the killjoys too long, but it was enough until another team could make another supply run like this. Unfortunately, it was enough that we’d have to take a few trips.

I grabbed two tanks of gas, and Night started rolling one of the oil drums towards the sewer door we came out of. I handed the tanks off to Star, and then with a group effort, we got the first oil drum down. I recruited Toxic to help us with the rest so it’d go faster. Toxic and Night grabbed the last four tanks, and I took the remaining oil drum. We just reached the door and had started getting the stuff down the ladder when the red haired killjoy came running around the corner. Damnit, they decided to socialize after all. I was the last one to leave, so I turned to him after handing off the oil drum.

“As much as I would like to stay and chat, we’ve got a mission to finish, and we can’t be delayed any further. Our plan banks on the guard schedule, and we can’t fuck that up, so adios muchacho!” I mock-saluted him, then slammed the door shut, locked it back up, then clambered down the ladder.

“What the hell happened up there?!” Toxic demanded.

“I promise to explain everything once we’re back in the safety of our home, but right now we gotta get outta here!” I said exasperatedly.

“Alright fine. And I know our job was to stay here, but I did some exploring, and I found a supply cart. Maybe we can transport this shit a lot easier now that we have wheels,” Star said, looking proud of herself.

I laughed. “Your misdemeanor is overlooked then, way to go.”

The two oil barrels and three of the gas tanks could just fit onto the cart, so Toxic and Night carried the remaining two gas tanks while Star and I did our best to push and pull the cart down the tunnel. Night ran up the exit ladder to remove the manhole cover which, thankfully, was big enough to get the supplies through, but not the cart. After transporting everything out, we replaced he manhole cover. Now came the tricky part of the plan. One person would stay here to watch the stuff while the other three would take trips back to the hole. Night volunteered to be said person, so the rest of us each grabbed two gas tanks and started jogging to the hole. Once we got there, we took turns finagling our loads through the crawl space. Then we came back through and ran back to where Night was. With two of us on a barrel, we were able to lug them both to the breach, and slid them through, quickly but carefully.

The rest of the plan from here on out was simple, just getting everything back to the car. It took longer to get from the hole back to Spark’s apartment then it did getting to the hole in the first place, but we made it. We loaded everything into the car best we could, let Spark know we made it out okay, then we all piled into the car and drove off to the drop off point.

Yet another successful mission to check off.


	5. Mission Report

It was around midnight when we finally pulled up outside the Run-n-Go. It’s just a small general store that was created only a short time after everything first went down with the creation of Battery City and the killjoys, and it’s still run by its founders who are two killjoys by the names DJ Spooky and Skeleton Kid.

They’re these two dorky dudes who are the best of friends, and they actually sometimes perform at the couple of local bars, with DJ on drums, and Kid doing piano and mic. They’re actually pretty good, though I have no fucking clue what genre they even are, but hey, that kinda fits with the whole killjoy theme anyway.

The two killjoys both work and live here, so it’s a guarantee that they’re pretty much always home. It was just past midnight, so all the lights were off at the moment. I pulled the car around to the back of the store and parked, then Night and I went to knock on the door while the other two watched the car. I knocked once on the old weathered door. No answer. Knocked again. Still no answer. So, being in the middle of the desert and having almost no neighbors to disturb, I banged on the door on the high chance they were both asleep. Only a few seconds after I lowered my fist, we heard a bang and crash as if someone had knocked into something. There were some muffled voices, and then the door finally opened, two tired killjoy faces looking out at us.

Kid was wearing a sort of pajamas version of his uniform, so red basketball shorts and a black muscle tee. DJ was shirtless with his navy blue boxers covered in little green alien faces. Both wore tired, half-awake expressions on their faces. Kid spoke first.

“What dipcrap could you possibly need at this hour of the day?” Kid was clearly irritated at being woken up so early, DJ conveying the same sentiment on his own face.

“We have the fuel we were just sent to retrieve from the city and then drop off here,” I replied. “Didn’t Dr. D radio you guys?”

Kid took a second to process this, and then, “Oh yeah! Yeah, I remember know, he did call. My bad, I totally forgot,” he said with a sheepish grin. It was hard to ever be mad or irritated at these two, I swear to god.

“No worries, just give us a hand in unloading.”

After about ten minutes, we had unloaded everything into their back storage room. DJ and Kid thanked us and we all said our goodbyes, then piled back into the car, Toxic at the wheel this time and Night in the passenger seat.

——————————————————————————————————————————–

We finally got back to the house just as the sun was starting to peek out from behind the horizon, throwing soft pinks and yellows into the blue night sky. We shuffled into the house, all of us tired from the nights events. But as with every mission that required us to split up, we piled into the living room, before going straight to bed, in order to compare notes.

I plopped down in the brown leather armchair, Star dropped onto the sofa and threw one of her feet up to rest in Toxic’s lap, who had sat next to her, and Night laid on the ground next to the short glass coffee table.

Toxic swiveled her head to look both at me and Night, “So you guys already know you have some explaining to do, because clearly something else happened other than just a few stray Scarecrows.”

“Everything on our end was uneventful, besides running to get the cart, so now that that’s out of the way, you guys have the floor,” Star mumbled, her eyes closed and her head leaning back on the armrest.

I decided to go ahead and explain, because as mentioned before, Night wasn’t a huge talker.

“Well, I can tell you guys right now that it wasn’t anything life- or mission-threatening,” I reassured them, pulling off my mask and starting to unlace my boots.

As the rest of them started to take off their own masks and shoes and jackets, I launched into a quick recap of the nights events.

“Night and I were looking for the fuel when we heard fighting around the corner. Obviously, we didn’t want to get accidentally caught in the middle, so we went to check it out. It was fairly dark in the warehouse cuz the lighting was shit, but we saw what seemed to be some Scarecrows fighting three other killjoys,” I ran through a quick description of each of them, “they were clearly outnumbered, so I’d figure we’d help them quick, then get back to the mission,” I smirked, “the looks on their faces when we jumped in out of nowhere and kicked ass was priceless. Anyhoo, we left them with a cool goodbye phrase, found the fuel, dragged it back to you guys, aaaaand you know the rest at that point. Oh, and the red-haired one tried to follow us, but I locked the door in his face before we all went back in the sewer,” I finished off the story.

“It’s unclear whether they were on an official mission, or just doing their own thing,” Night’s voice floated up from the floor.

“Well, you have a point in that it wasn’t mission/life-threatening,” Toxic agreed begrudgingly.

“Yeah I dunno what the hell they were doing there, but I’m gonna assume since we made it out, so did they,” I replied.

We were all exhausted and starting to fall asleep, so we pulled ourselves up from the couches and chairs, grabbed our stuff, and headed to bed. After a mumbled “good night” to the rest of my team, I closed my bedroom door behind me, changed into my pjs, and fell into a dreamless sleep at almost the same moment my head hit the pillow.


	6. Checkmate, Bitchachos

I was woken up the next morning by the sun shining brightly through the corner windows of my room and, surprisingly, no loud chaos like the morning before was to be heard. I guess everyone else was still sleeping, too tired from last night’s late mission.

I begrudgingly got up out of bed, because I knew I wasn’t going to be able to fall back asleep, and got dressed in my casual blue sweats and black muscle tee with a long forgotten band logo on the front. I washed my face, brushed my teeth and hair, then trudged down the stairs, not bothering to wake anybody else up because they deserved the rest. Although when I made it to the kitchen, I was actually (half) surprised to see Night already up and eating a bowl of cereal in her own shirt-and-sweats ensemble.

“Buenos días,” I said to her in my slightly croaky morning voice, and shuffled to the fridge in search of breakfast.

“Morning,” she replied, sounding more awake than I expected.

“How long you been up?”

“About an hour. Maybe two. Probably two.”

“Really? It’s, what, only 8 o'clock right now? We got home at almost 2 am,” I had pulled my head out of the fridge to look at her questioningly. It wasn’t unusual for Night not get many hours, because she’s a light sleeper, but only 4 hours was a bit less than usual for her.

“Eh, I woke up around 6 with a migraine and couldn’t go back to sleep, so I came down here instead. Sorry if I woke you up,” Night replied nonchalantly.

“Nah, you didn’t, no worries. Sorry about the headache though,” I went back to looking for food, found some yogurt, grabbed that and some orange juice, then sat down across from Night.

“Thanks, it’s actually pretty much gone now,-” Night trailed off, her head snapping towards the window facing outside the front of the house. She had been just zoning out looking at it earlier, but now her full attention was on the outside.

I immediately tensed, “What is it?”

“I’m not sure yet, but grab your gun and wake the others, we’ve got company,” Night was already running towards the stairs to get her own gun and probably get to her vantage point on the roof.

———————————————————————————————————————————————

I bolted back upstairs, and burst through Toxic’s door and then Star’s, causing them to wake up in a panic at the sudden intrusion. I quickly relayed to them the situation, and they were both immediately up and getting dressed and grabbing their masks and guns, Star grabbing her rifle as well.

I ran to my own room, grabbing my own mask and ray gun and slid down the banister of the stairs, landing barefoot in a crouch. I quickly made my way to the front door, careful to avoid passing any windows and risking being seen from the outside. Toxic had followed me, meaning Star mostly followed Night to the roof, or at least to an upstairs window for a sniper position. Both Toxic and I were standing against the wall on either side of the door, masks on and guns off safety, and one of Toxic’s homemade grenades in her other hand.

I turned to the window next to the door and carefully peeked through the blinds. A car had pulled up outside our house, and was parked at the curb. It was a Trans Am, but that didn’t mean anything since both killjoys and Dracs can drive them. What caught my attention was the wild splashed of color all over the originally white car, and the giant spider design on the hood. Killjoys became closer to being the answer here.

However, I wasn’t truly convinced yet, because the windows were all rolled up and they were dark tinted, meaning no visual of who was inside, which meant it could be possible a Drac stole a killjoy car. It’s happened before.

We both waited for someone to step out of the car, and while it was only a couple minutes before they did, it felt way longer to us. The back passenger door finally opened, and a guy stepped out who I didn’t recognize.

He was definitely dressed like a killjoy. He wore black skinny jeans and black combat boots, had a yellow-and-black striped shirt, and a red leather jacket over it, with a black stripe going down each arm. There was a logo patch on the top left of the front of the jacket, but it was too small to see from here. He was sporting blond hair and black sunglasses, and wore black riding gloves. I also noticed the red ray gun stored in the holster on his thigh.

He got out and just looked at our house, clearly not noticing the two expert markswomen whose guns were most likely aimed at his cranium and heart. When he started moving towards the house, I waited till he was within five feet of the door, before moving.

I nodded to Toxic, then yanked open the front door, my gun moving up quick as lightning and resting the end of the barrel against his forehead, Toxic right behind me watching the car. The minute I did this, the three other car doors banged open, and three other guys shot up and had their own guns trained on us. I didn’t actually see what they looked like, I just noticed their movement because there was no way I was taking my eyes off the red-jacketed man in front of me.

“Well. Looks like we’re in a bit of a pickle here, fellas,” I said nonchalantly, my lips barely moving, “a bit rude to come to someone’s house only to shoot them before saying ‘hello’.”

“You’re one to talk, putting your gun to a visitor’s head before they can even knock on the door,” one of the killjoys at the car replied back, and I could practically hear the sarcastic grin on his face, matching my own.

“I will admit, ya got me there, stranger. But we never get visitors this far out ever, and if we do, it’s never friendly faces, ya get me? So you can understand why we’re a bit trigger-happy here,” I still hadn’t moved my gun or my eyes off the one in front of me, and nobody else had moved either.

“You know,” I started, “while you can only see two of us in front of you, but we can see all four of your team, I feel it only fair to warn you that we are also part of a team of four. This maniac behind me manufactures her own explosives, so tread carefully. And while I won’t tell you the location of the other two, I will tell you that they never miss,” I ended with an evil grin.

I was greeted with silence. I don’t think I could hear any of them breathing.

“Checkmate, bitchachos.”


	7. Trust Me

While I still never moved my eyes from my target in front of me (who was standing still as a statue and wearing a poker face to rival even Toxic's), I could tell that the other three by the car were silently deliberating on what options they had. Which wasn't many. Getting bored, I spoke up again.

"We hardly ever get killjoy visitors, and there's barely anyone who we've told about this place, so we're not budging or welcoming you until you start talking and give us some goddamn answers."

A different killjoy spoke up this time.

"If we swear to lay down our weapons, will you do the same so we can all talk peacefully?" His tone was heavy with well-placed caution.

I thought hard about this for a moment. As leader, I had to make the right call here. I felt Toxic briefly rest her hand on my shoulder, her way of saying she agreed with the reasonable terms. I let a long sigh out through my nose.

"Alright. You got a deal. But you first. You're the ones technically trespassing."

"Fair. We're putting them on the ground now," he talked through what they were doing as I heard the heavy clinks of three ray guns being carefully placed on the ground, "Okay, now your turn."

I squinted at the guy in front of me one last time before slowly removing my gun from his temple. Red-Jacket-Man seemed to visibly relax drastically, even as I waited for him to place his gun on the ground before setting down my own. I heard Toxic put her own weapons down as well behind me. I didn't know what Night and Star would do, but I knew it didn't really matter. I finally slid my gaze over by the car. If I wasn't such an emotionally controlled introvert, my jaw would've dropped open in shock.

It was the three killjoys Night and I saved on last night's mission.

The red-haired one had on a yellow mask with black triangles over and under the eyes, with blue circles on the cheeks and one on his forehead. He wore white skinny jeans, with black boots, a red and blue stripe on each. He had a blue leather jacket on, zipped all the way so you couldn't see his shirt, and he wore brown riding gloves.

The one by the passenger seat was the one who had the Halloween mask, but given that he wasn't wearing it right now, I could see he had shoulder-length black hair and was wearing black reflective aviators. He wore black skinny jeans and combat boots, with two red stripes at the top. He also wore a black shirt with yellow sleeves, with an army green denim vest over it. Also, he was smoking somehow during this whole exchange.

The third guy wore silver reflective aviators, but his long, brown, afro hair covered half his face. He had black jeans and combat boots, and he was the one with the black denim jacket with an American flag painted on the back. I realized he's also the one who offered the compromise.

The red-haired one wore a smirk, but it was placed over thinly veiled tension as his eyes were fixed on Red-Jacket. It wasn't apparent quite yet who was the leader of this group.

"Somebody better start talking," I said as calmly as I could manage.

The one with the crazy hair complied. He seemed like the most level-headed one of this group.

"We're killjoys, just like you guys. Obviously, you recognize us from last night," he spoke quickly. Shit. I guess my shock wasn't that well-hidden.

"Okay, so....?" I urged him to keep explaining.

"We didn't get a chance to thank you for saving our asses, and we didn't recognize you, so we figured we'd try and find you guys."

"Yeah, about that, how the hell did you find us? Only three people should know, one obviously being Dr. Death," I questioned.

"Well, we did notice a pattern after asking around several killjoy hotspots, that while people knew your team, they didn't know where you lived. We finally talked to DJ Spooky and Skeleton Kid at the Run-n-Go, and they told us. Reluctantly, if I might add. They explained you were on a mission last night," he finished, with an expression saying he hoped the explanation was enough to get them out of the line of fire.

I stood there silent for a moment while going over my options. Their story seemed to make sense. Besides Dr. D, we only told DJ and Kid our address only so they could make any deliveries needed. So it all seemed to add up. I looked at each of them before speaking.

"Here's what's going to happen. I'm gonna let you pick up your guns and come in the house to talk further. But I'm going to make one thing clear: I'm the leader of this family, so if you put one toe out of line, or give me any reason to suspect you of ill intentions, I'm throwing you all out. Either alive or as corpses. Are we clear?" I fixed a death glare on all of them.

"Crystal," Red-Hair spoke up, still smirking.

"Good. Then come on in. Welcome to the base of the Crash Queens," I turned on my heel and walked back in the house with Toxic.


	8. Path of A Laser

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: welp. Shit. I can’t remember how long the last update on this story was. My bad..... but out of all the stories/fanfic I’ve started, this one is one of my favorites that I really really want to continue and finish before the others. The same with the Loki fic I have. And this might be the longest chapter for this particular fic that I’ve written holy sHIT. But as always, please enjoy :)

“Hold on a second... did you say ‘Crash Queens’? As in the actual Crash Queens? The Queen Dream Team that everyone talks about?” Red Jacket Man spluttered as I turned to hold the door for them to enter. The other three also looked similarly surprised as they walked up the short pathway. 

“Yep. Good to know your hearing works,” I smirked, tilting my head to signal them to move into the house. As soon as they finally filed in, Toxic and I followed suit, locking the door back up.

The four guys shuffled towards the center of the front room, more or less huddled, and were trying to subtly take in their surroundings. Meanwhile Toxic walked over to the nearby couch and plopped herself down on it, crossing her feet on top of the coffee table. The picture of ease. I myself lowered onto the arm of the same couch, setting my gun next to me and crossing my arms.

We all just exchanged stares for a brief moment, sizing each other up, but I decided to speak.

“I do believe introductions are in order if you want to stay here.”

“Where’s the other two team members that you threatened us with? We’re not sharing a thing until all your cards on the table,” the one with the red hair nonchalantly retorted. I smirked.

“Fair enough,” without taking my eyes off him, I turned my head towards the stairs.

“Why don’t you two come on down and join the party?” I yelled up, knowing they were now close enough to hear.

Star was the first to appear, opting to slide down the banister with her rifle in hand, landing on both feet and smiling devilishly at the newcomers while in her red pajama shorts and Captain America tank top (come on, don’t act surprised), her white hair tied back and her reflective aviators shining. She leaned against the stair railing and managed to look both calm as well as entirely trigger happy should the moment call for it.

Star had made such an entrance that the boys hadn’t even seen Night silently walk down the stairs, and so I had to stifle my laughter as they all started at finally seeing her seemingly just materialize out of thin air; gun in one hand, and a few throwing knives in the other. Her ensemble of dark sweats and t-shirt allowed her to somewhat blend in just enough with the only shadows in one of the corners of the room, her silver mask the only thing reminding us she was there at all. The textbook definition of quiet intimidation. I locked eyes with the redhead again.

“Consider my cards now on the table. No use in bluffing when it’s the actual truth,” smugness leaking into my words. “Now. As stated before, you are the strangers in someone else’s house. You’re up first.”

The redhead stepped forward, his eyes darting back and forth between all of us.

“I’m Party Poison, I’m the leader of the group,” he gestured for his teammates to continue.

Red Jacket Man spoke up, “Kobra Kid.”

Followed by Fro, “I’m Jet Star.”

And finished by Halloween Boy, “and I’m Fun Ghoul.”

As they all removed their assorted face coverings, something clicked in my head after hearing all the names together, and after a quick glance to Star and Toxic, they clearly were on the same wavelength.

“Hold on a sec,” I literally held up a hand. “Are you telling me.... that you guys are the Fabulous Four? The Original Killjoys?”

“In the flesh,” it was Party Poison’s turn to give a smirk. Oh, he wasn’t about to have the last laugh in my house.

“Huh. Interesting,” I nodded, looking like I was contemplating something. But then I grinned like a Cheshire cat.

“Nice to know that even famous rebel leaders need to have their asses saved on minor missions like supply runs. Happy to be of service.” Party’s face dropped, immediately getting on the defensive.

“Now hold on a minute!-“ he started. 

“Cool your boots, dude, I’m just messing,” I laughed, holding both hands up in mock surrender. “But we were of course happy to help out, and glad you’re all seemingly in one piece. I’d say it’s our turn for introductions now.” Party relaxed again, running a hand through his hair, still only slightly perturbed.

Sliding my own mask off my face, I started, “The name’s Demolition Ghost, I’m the leader.”

“Toxic Grenade,” Toxic deadpanned, pulled off her green mask.

“My name’s Danger Star,” The patriotic colored girl piped up next, moving her shades to the top of her head, but then shifting her glance over to Jet without dropping that mischievous grin. “But you can call me..... anytime.”

I internalized a groan, the name and wardrobe similarities between the two had definitely not gone unnoticed. I glanced over at Night, waiting to see if she’d offer her own introduction, but she remained silent, her only move was to take off her mask as well. I turned back to the guys.

“And the batwoman over there in the corner is Bulletproof Night,” I pointed over my shoulder. “Don’t try sneaking around, she somehow knows everything that goes on, anywhere

I stood from the couch arm and walked over to the Fab Four. I extended a hand to Party Poison.

“Welcome, again, to our home, you’re free to stay for a bit if you really want.”

Party smiled, a genuine one this time, before taking my hand in his and giving it a firm shake and then letting go. “Thank you. It’s great to finally meet you all.”

“We have a spare room down in the basement for stray killjoys if you aren’t keen on making the long drive back to your own base later. Well..... it’s technically half room - half emergency bunker. So it’s not as ‘cozy’ as up here,” laughing lightly, I pointed toward the door under the stairs that would lead to said room.

“We greatly appreciate the offer, we just might take you up on it.”

“I’ll have Toxic show you where to hide your car in the meantime. That’s what we do with ours, it keeps the house completely inconspicuous. That why we haven’t decorated the exterior like most other killjoys would. When you come back in, we’ll show you around a bit. And wipe your boots at the door would ya? We’re not running a biker bar here.”

I suggested Toxic because she was the only one who somehow got fully dressed, minus shoes, and plus it’d be the garage they’d move their car into, which we all agreed in the beginning was pretty much her space. When Toxic headed back out the door with the boys in tow, Star, Night and I all headed upstairs to change. We were back downstairs in our everyday attire before the five walked back in. Party Poison and Jet Star each had a backpack with them. 

I walked over to the basement door and, turning my body to block their view, I quickly punched in the code on the keypad we had Toxic install after we finished fixing up the basement for our own use. With a confirming beep and a click of the lock, the door swung open to reveal the concrete staircase headed down. Just because I let them stay, didn’t mean I automatically fully trusted them. The door could be locked from either side, so if there was a problem with these four, we could lock them in the guest room. But I highly doubted it would ever come to that. Stepping to the side, I gestured to the doorway with an over-dramatic flourish.

“Your quarters.”

I led the group down, Party right behind me, until we reached another door with another keypad. Can’t be too careful. I punched a different code and, after the accompanying beep, pushed the door open to reveal the extra room that covered the same area space as the floor above. 

The way the four struggled to hide their awe as they took in their surroundings, I came to the conclusion that they probably weren’t living in the same level of comfort as we were, which gave me a twinge of guilt, but I shook it off. I moved on to start the mini tour of the place as they composed themselves again.

It was an open floor plan originally, with just a couple structural posts here and there around the middle of the room. We added in some plywood sheets to make a couple sectioned areas, like a small space off in the corner has a cot and all the medical supplies the house came with as well as what we’ve raided. Like a hospital room kinda. We also found out the basement came with an already built bathroom, so that was all taken care of, thank god. But that was it for individual rooms, everything else was out in the open.

“.... so over there’s all the storage with food and crap, don’t touch those, just eat whatever’s upstairs in the kitchen, this is last resort shit..... there’s the bathroom, self-explanatory...... there’s table and chairs of course....... that makeshift room is the extra medical room, it’s the only one in the house, so we all use it, ask before you use any of the supplies..... and finally, there’s four of us so we obviously have four cots over along the far wall, so go ahead and take your pick,” I finished the tour and spun on my heel to face them again, crossing my arms and awaiting the inevitable questions.

Kobra Kid and Jet Star thanked me for the tour and immediately headed over to claim a cot. Party Poison and Fun Ghoul stayed behind for a moment. 

I glanced at the latter. “No bag?”

“Nah. We didn’t actually expect to spend a night anywhere, so the two bags between us are just basic supplies we’d take on any drive or mission,” Ghoul shrugged when answering.

“Ah. Well in that case, it won’t be classic Killjoy style of course, but I’m pretty sure there’s extra men’s clothes upstairs if you want pajamas. We’ve also got a washing machine so you can take the opportunity to clean anything if you need to.”

“Actually, that sounds like a great idea,” Party jumped in. Then immediately backpedalled. “If it’s no trouble to you all, of course....”

I smiled. “Absolutely no trouble at all. Fun Ghoul, how about you take one of the other guys with you and go up and relay the deal to Danger Star? She’ll know exactly where to find the extra clothes as well as tell you where the machine is. But we’re not washing your rags for you, got it? You’re grown men, you better figure it out yourselves.”

Party laughed and assured me they could, just as Ghoul smiled and gave a “yes ma’am” paired with a salute, before walking over and grabbing hold of Jet Star.

“Come one, man. We gotta go talk to your new girlfriend,” he chuckled as he half dragged Jet towards the staircase. Kobra just automatically followed.

“Wait- my..... my what?? Hold on-“ the crazy haired man stumbled over his words as he also stumbled over the first couple steps. Snickering along with Party, I turned back toward him.

“There’s no need to worry about Star. She just likes to mess with people,” I assured him offhandedly. Wasn’t the first time having to make that statement. 

Party nodded, showing it wasn’t a big deal either way, then walked over to one the open cots and dropped his bag on top as he himself turned back to face me and sit on the edge. He ran a hand through his hair again before resting his elbows on his knees.

“First of all, thank you again. For all of it. Saving us, and letting us stay the night,” he said with earnest before continuing. “But, secondly....... how?”

I knew what he was asking. I walked off, grabbed one of the metal folding “dining” chairs and dragged it over. I stopped a few feet in front of him and pulled the chair around so I’d be sitting on it backwards, and rested my crossed arms on the top of the backrest.

“Luck, mostly, is what I’d chalk it all up to. After the Fires, and after becoming a team, we started off in old, run down shacks, always temporary, just jumping from one to the other as needed. After several months of this, we all came to the agreement that this strategy was not going to ensure we’d stay alive. We needed a permanent residence. Most other groups had one, so we’d find one of our own. We came up with the plan that we’d go to the absolute farthest Zone, as far from Bat City as we could manage. We figured that while we’d have to settle with the long drive for missions, it’d be insurance for prolonged survival and insurance we wouldn’t have to constantly move locations for security.

It was luck that had us find this place. We didn’t know what was even in Zone 6, we didn’t know this neighborhood even existed. But we ran a search over the whole area and found it completely devoid of life. No people. No Killjoys. But especially no BLI. So we picked a random house in the middle of the whole place and started setting up shop. This seemed to be the only house with a basement in it. The previous tenants must’ve been those ‘doomsday’ people, because the basement pretty much came as is. We only added a couple more cots, the walls for the medic room, and hacked and recoded the keypads. But this place was already filled to the brim with canned goods and gasoline and water and working plumbing. We then rigged up some solar power for electricity and made radio antennas,” I finished with the basics, not wanting to overload him. 

He seemed to contemplate all this for a moment before finally speaking. 

“You’re telling me that just the four of you got a whole house and bunker basement into a fully functional state, in a desert, in the middle of what is essentially the apocalypse?” A somewhat incredulous tone creeping into his voice.

“I get your confusion. But here’s the thing. We each all happened to have special skill sets that could be perfectly applied to this kind of situation. It’s how we became such a cohesive and effective team. Toxic graduated with an engineering degree and a bunch of honors and shit before the Fires and BLI. She’s got an almost genius level IQ, meaning she’s the one that built most of the crap that keeps this place running. She also engineers and upgrades our weaponry every so often, so enter the garage at your own peril.

When BLI first appeared and was advertised as a safe haven, Night and I were some of the first citizens there in Bat City. Toxic just decided to keep living out in the Zones, the desert. Star was one of the few who stayed out in the slums, but that meant she had gained all these different connections on where to obtain certain supplies that you couldn’t get anywhere else. Like a black market, but even more difficult to find. So she got us most our specialty gear and gizmos later on, as well as the car. I was just an office worker, but I was in a high enough position right before we all jumped ship that I could get my hands on all sorts of documents, ranging from blueprints to guard schedules to accurate maps of Bat City and the Zones. Night was recruited to become one of their special forces operatives. Why they needed that group, we didn’t know at the time, but now it makes sense. But she received a whole myriad of combat training, from hand to hand fighting, to assorted weapons training. There’s more, but she won’t go into it, I suggest you also leave it be.”

I took another breath before continuing. “At some point, one day at work, I stumbled upon information I shouldn’t have, and next thing I knew, I always had a shadow tailing me home from work. I always felt watched no matter where I was. I finally tried to bring this up with a coworker, and the next day I was taken from my apartment, thrown in a van, and deposited at a ‘correctional facility’. Some of the worst weeks of my life. But I ended up meeting Night during ‘free time’, which is where we had an hour to free roam in the fenced off area right outside the building. She was a guard on duty that day, but she was already in on the knowledge that something was horribly wrong about this place. After careful planning, the two of us escaped, along with about 20 others, mostly other inmates, but also a couple other guards. We made it to the slums, where we all parted ways, everyone going off in groups of twos or threes. 

That’s where Night and I ran into Star. She offered us bunk space, where after more talking, the now three of us packed up and left, heading for the desert. At this point, you guys, the Fab Four and Dr. D, were now a thing, the Killjoy ranks slowly being born. We didn’t hesitate to join. We donned new names, new clothes, and hid our faces. We didn’t have a team name yet, but we quickly fell into the pace of fighting Dracs and Scarecows and surviving day-to-day. It was during a mission that we ran into a rare lone Killjoy. Introduced herself as Toxic Grenade. It took some initial convincing, but she finally agreed to join us. We picked a team name finally, the Crash Queens, and, modestly speaking, began to quickly build an excellent reputation for ourselves. And then you know the rest after.”

Party had started staring at a spot on the floor some point through the story, and was ever so slightly shaking his head in.... disbelief? Speechlessness? Awe? I really couldn’t tell. This guy had his emotions locked in almost better than I did. Still keeping his eyes on the floor, he spoke.

“That....... is quite the tale, I gotta say.”

“You don’t believe me?” I questioned, quirking up an eyebrow.

“Oh, no no, I do believe you. Completely. It’s more just..... I knew it was bad in there, but I didn’t know about the correctional facilities.... at least not extensively,” he quickly amended. “And I definitely didn’t know about the special ops training. That’s new to me. You can only get so much information from the outside.”

“Well, according to the brief discussions I had with Night about it, she made it clear that the program was practically above top secret. Not even every BLI official knew about it, that’s how top secret. She said that you’d only ever know about it if you were a direct participant. So don’t beat yourself up for not having that info. Practically no one does. She also made it sound like the program never fully came to fruition. That’s why I met her as a basic guard at the facility. But like I said, other stuff happened that she clearly doesn’t want to talk about. So live with the basic info I gave you.”

At the reminder, and the sound of the clear end to my discussion, Party stood again and so did I.

“Thanks for taking the time the explain all that. Makes me trust you a bit more, if I’m being honest,” he said as he rose. “I’m sorry about the correctional facility, I can only imagine how bad it got.”

“Nah, don’t be. It was years ago, you had nothing to do with it, it’s all good. It’s behind me,” I waved him off, giving another smile. “I’m sorry for talking your ear off.”

Party laughed at this. “No, seriously, I’m glad you did. Like I said, makes me trust you more.”

“What say you to going and heading back on up and finding some lunch?” I waved my hand in the direction of the stairs again. He smiled.

“After you, Ms. Ghost.”


End file.
